


You Gotta Pay!

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Beginnings, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Humor, Mostly Dialogue though, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Relationship, Slight changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: If Ryder had to compare Kadara Port to a place in the Milky Way, he would’ve immediately said Omega. The only difference is that Kadara smelled like rotting flesh, and Omega smelled like a communal bathroom that had never been cleaned. Everything else was pretty much the same, the smuggling, the drinking, the blatant disregard for human life, and the all-round sense of compassion being shanked in the alley beside the bar.
Relationships: Male Ryder | Scott & Reyes Vidal, Male Ryder | Scott/Reyes Vidal, Ryder/Reyes Vidal
Kudos: 7





	You Gotta Pay!

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally started this at the very beginning, but I'm too lazy to write THAT much between Ryder becoming Pathfinder and making it to Kadara. So I started here and will do occasional flashbacks as the story progresses. Also, I never use first name, only Ryder, and don't describe (other than clothes or armor), so you can use personal Ryder! Enjoy! -Thorne

If Ryder had to compare Kadara Port to a place in the Milky Way, he would’ve immediately said Omega. The only difference is that Kadara smelled like rotting flesh, and Omega smelled like a communal bathroom that had never been cleaned. Everything else was pretty much the same, the smuggling, the drinking, the blatant disregard for human life, and the all-round sense of compassion being shanked in the alley beside the bar.

It was a place forged by bloodlust and murder, and certainly not for anyone trying to do the right thing. Now Ryder wasn’t a saint, not by a longshot, but he was a good (as much as he could try to be) person—someone that a place like Kadara wanted to eat alive and not leave even a bone behind for the buzzards. _Did Heleus even have buzzards?_ Lucky for him, he and a few Alliance buddies had taken a week’s leave on Omega one month—he knew how to deal with a place like this.

Kralla’s Song was a neat place in his opinion, at least it had a bit of a livelier atmosphere than outside. Other then the smell of sulfur wafting in through the open windows, the view made up for it. Ryder could feel the weight of the patrons stares on him as soon as he stepped foot inside, and he dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, squaring his shoulders to appear bigger. Not that he wasn’t already a bit taller and in better shape than most. Bravado was one part of appearing tough. The other was having the skill to back it all up when it came down to showing cards.

He’d forgone the stark white initiative clothes, knowing that half the port already wanted him dead, and he was pretty sure that wearing bright clothing only screamed, ‘Please shoot me!’ Instead, he wore a gray, short sleeved shirt and a pair of dark jeans, topping it off with one of the only things he’d brought from the Milky Way, and that had been an authentic Sven black leather bomber jacket. Honestly, he wore it for kicks, but at the same time, it gave him an air of confidence, and around here, he was sure he’d need it.

Ryder had barely gotten to the side when he saw the bartender call for a customer, a Krogan who’d walked off. He cocked a brow and waited, wanting to know how Kadara Port handled its business.

The Asari took a step forward, behind her bar. “Hey!”

“Piss off.” The Krogan spat, waving her off, and taking in the sight of the blue armor he wore, Ryder knew he was one of Sloan’s men.

“You _order_ , you _pay_.” She demanded.

“I said—” his words were cut short when she stabbed the bar with her knife, and Ryder couldn’t help the snort that passed his lips when the Krogan raised a hand, omni tool flashing as he paid his tab.

He turned and left without another word, and she was quick to turn her eyes on him. “Are you just going to stand there and look pretty? Or are you gonna order?”

Ryder leaned on the bar. “I dunno. I don’t have much to do at the moment.” He gave her an innocent smile. “Wonder what would happen _if_ I stood around and looked pretty?”

“Probably get killed. What do you want?”

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey.”

He nodded. “I’ll take one. Neat.”

Scowling, she passed him a glass. “Only way I serve it.”

Raising the glass to his lips and tipped it back slightly.

“Pathfinder, it is ill-advised to consume alcohol on the job.” SAM’s voice came though the private channel and he huffed, glancing out at the skyline.

“I didn’t drink any of it, SAM,” he murmured. “Easiest way to blend into a bar scene is to buy a drink and make it seem like you’re drinking yourself away.”

“Alec frequently enjoyed alcohols. Brandy was his favorite.”

“He did,” Ryder responded. “He’s actually the one who taught me the fake drinking technique.”

“And that is?” For once, SAM actually sounded intrigued.

“Bring the cup to your lips, tongue just behind them, look like you took some into your mouth, then swallow. Gives the appearance of drinking, yet you stay sober.” He did the action to prove it, then set the glass to the side. “It’s also how I managed to keep a whole squad of privates from buying out the bar with their paychecks.”

Before SAM could respond, someone inquired, “So in addition to being a knight in shining armor, you’re also the designated driver?”

Ryder turned his head, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the man before him; he grinned. “Someone’s gotta keep the ducks in a row.”

The man chuckled, holding out his hand. “ _Shena_ , but you can call me Reyes. I’m not fond of code names.”

“Good to meet you, Reyes.” Ryder took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Ryder. Pathfinder for the Initiative.”

Pulling his hand away, Reyes nodded at Umi, taking the glass she slammed on the counter. “I’m aware of who you are,” he replied, taking a sip of his whiskey before he added, “In fact, the whole port knew who you were the moment you walked in.”

With a grin he countered, “I like to make an appearance.” He gave the man a once over, with appreciation, of course. “Yours for example, doesn’t fit the one I expected.”

“The Resistance pays me to supply information…among other things.”

“Smuggling? _Wonderful_.”

Reyes chuckled at the quip, motioning him to follow. They leaned against the railing. “Your man—Vehn Terev—was arrested by Sloane Kelly. She leads the Outcasts. Word spread what he did to Moshae Sjefa.” He shook his head. “The people, mainly Angara, are calling for his execution. And Sloane,” the sound he made was almost a scoff. “she’s a woman of the people.”

Ryder grunted quietly, mulling over the words before he said, “Tyrants are never really ‘of the people’.” He met amber eyes and stated, “The people will only take so much before they revolt, and when they do, it’ll be _her_ head on a pike outside the port.”

“True. History is paved with the heads of kings and queens who pushed a little too far.” Sighing, he added, “But you work for the Initiative, and Sloane led the uprising back on the Nexus.” His face turned solemn. “She’s not going to give you Vehn just because you ask for him.”

Something shifted in Ryder’s gaze, and Reyes knew he wasn’t looking at the young man anymore, he was looking at the Pathfinder.

“It’s hard to calculate how few fucks I give about what Sloane wants and doesn’t want. I’m taking him from her custody with or without her permission and I don’t care who I have to go through,” he declared, looking out to the sunset. “Vehn Terev deserves to be punished by the very woman he tried to condemn, and no one else.”

Reyes observed Ryder for a moment, almost feeling galvanized by the young man’s declarations. It had been a long time since he’d felt any kind of hope or good feeling about anyone. Kadara Port had a way of stomping out whatever life tried to bloom.

Pulling a grin, he leaned close, rubbing shoulders with Ryder. “Well, it sounds like you and I are gonna be great friends here, Pathfinder.” He thought for a minute. “There might be another way to get Vehn. You work Sloane, and I’ll contact the Resistance.”

As he pulled away and walked off, Ryder turned, asking, “And just how am I supposed to contact you if she tries to eat my heart out?”

Reyes spun on his heel and winked. “You’re the designated driver. Find me down the winding road, Pathfinder.” And he was gone.

Ryder let out a sigh and started towards the stairs when he heard, “ _Hey_! _You gotta pay_!”

He turned, seeing the glass that Reyes had drunk from. He raised his arm and tapped at his omni tool. “Ugh, keep the change.”

Umi huffed. “Always do.”

His face pinched and he griped, “ _I’m gonna kill that guy_.”


End file.
